The Wager
by Book.Wretched
Summary: A Romitri one shot that takes place after Last Sacrifice. Dimitri always refuses to teach Rose how to swear in Russian and she has had enough. She comes up with the perfect plan to win him over... Everybody, place your bets! Thanks to theoneiam for the awesome cover!


We lie next to each other on the bed, our chests rising and falling to the tempo of our rapid breathing. I sneak a glance at Dimitri and see that he has his eyes closed.

His hair is fanned out on the pillow and I delight in the contrast of the deep brown on the white linen. I can see the tiny purple veins in his eyelids and I admire the elegant sweep of his cheekbones. His lips quirk into a smile.

"I know you're watching me, Roza," he says.

I laugh. He really is a god.

"I'm just admiring the view, comrade," I reply pleasantly and he chuckles in response.

I turn onto my side and snuggle into him while he lifts an arm to accommodate me. I smile contentedly into his skin.

"You know," I say, careful to keep my tone conversational, "You say that one a lot. I'm starting to recognise them now."

His eyes flash open and he looks warily down at me.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbles, closing his eye again.

We both know he's lying. I'm referring, of course, to the Russian word he'd vehemently exclaimed a few minutes ago, throwing his head back when I had skimmed my teeth over a particularly sensitive area.

"What does it mean?" I ask, knowing full well where this familiar argument would lead.

"Haven't I furthered your education enough, Rose?" he dryly remarks.

His eyes are open again and his familiarly sexy raised eyebrow as well as the implication behind his question is enough to make me want to jump on top of him again. Yes, he's taught me far more than he bargained for. Among other things, patience and focus. And right now I really, really want to win this argument.

"You don't have to tell me what it means," I whine, "Just teach me how to say it."

He sighs. "I've told you, you swear enough already."

Swearing is his only vice, maybe apart from me, and I understand why he'd want to keep this part of himself from me. But I know first-hand how creative he can be and besides the fact that I desperately want to know what he says, it's also a major turn on.

An idea sparks in my mind and I give him another sneaky glance. "How about a bet?" I say.

As well as I know him, I know that he has a competitive streak to rival my own. I have to admit, this half-formed plan is pretty conniving, even for me. By the stiffening in his muscles, I can tell that I've piqued his interest, so I press on.

"If I win, you teach me how to swear in Russian. If you win, I'll drop it forever."

His gaze is suspicious, but I can see the prospect seems immensely tempting to him. I watch him deliberate.

"How do we decide?" he asks eventually. "Sparring?"

I pause to think about it, but then I shake my head. We know each other so well that sparring would take ages and I couldn't rely on the outcome since we're so evenly matched. My mind plays back the distant memory of a conversation at the ski lodge and suddenly I have perfect thing. A grin spreads across my face.

"Pool," I say.

"Pool?" he repeats, looking understandably confused, then his expression clears. He shakes his head. "It wouldn't be fair."

"Why not?" I frown.

"Well," he says, looking amused, "I'm very good."

I can't help but plant a kiss on his lips. "You're good at everything," I tell him.

He laughs, but when I insist, he finally he concedes. "It's your funeral," he says. "Pool it is."

I can tell by his tone that he's confident he'll win. And honestly, he may be right. Lissa and I used to be a pretty good team at the bars we'd frequented when we were on the run, but that was a pretty long time ago. I may be a little rusty, but that won't really matter. I have a plan.

We leave the bed to get dressed for the day into our black and white guardian attire. He looks amazing, as always and with a parting kiss, we agree to meet in the guardian recreation room after our evening shifts. Then we go our separate ways.

Dimitri has border patrol and heads off to get some breakfast, while I walk towards the queen's chambers where I'll eat with Lissa.

"You look pretty cheerful this morning," says Lissa, looking up from her scrambled eggs and I grin in response.

"Particularly busy, was it?" Christian asks with a sneaky smile.

"No more than yours, I'm sure," I shoot back and Lissa's answering blush tells me that I hit the mark.

Christian laughs at her expression, but then turns back to me. "Still though," he says, "That's not really anything out of the ordinary. Why so chipper?"

By the time I finish telling both of them about my wager, they're laughing again.

"Are you sure you can win?" asks Lissa with mirth dancing in her eyes. "Dimitri's pretty… formidable."

"Good for you, Rose," says Christian with glee. "It's about time Belikov got knocked down a peg. Being good at everything can't be good for his ego."

That makes me laugh. Christian knows as well as I do that if anything, Dimitri's ego is too small.

"Seriously though," Lissa says, sobering. "A little practice couldn't hurt. Maybe we should go to the games room after breakfast."

So after we finish eating, Lissa and I walk down to the palace games room closely followed by Christian, who left the table with an exclamation of "Now this is something I have to see."

We spend the morning at the pool table working on my technique and I find out that Christian is a surprisingly good coach.

"I didn't know you were such a good teacher," I tell him, surprise evident in my voice.

He looks up from where he's demonstrating the proper way to hold a cue stick. "I'm offended that it shocks you," he smirks.

Lissa has an admiring smile plastered across her face. "He's a man of many talents," she informs me

"Ugh," I say jokingly, "Would you two like me to leave, or can we continue?"

We all laugh and then get back to work. A short while later I notice that we have a spectator. Dimitri had finished his patrol duty and evidently came to find his charge.

"What?" I say in response to his raised eyebrow. "You never said I couldn't practice."

He laughs. "You and I both know it'll do you little good," he teases.

I scowl.

"Hathaway, quit fraternising with the enemy!" Christian reprimands me. He sends a grin Dimitri's way and makes him laugh again.

"The "enemy" still has to guard your ass," Dimitri scoffs and when Lissa reminds us of the time, I follow her off to a meeting.

The rest of my day is uneventful and seems to drag due to the mounting excitement I can feel in my stomach. By the time my last shift arrives, I'm actually bouncing up and down in anticipation and Lissa laughs.

"Why don't we let you two off five minutes early?" she suggests, looking at Christian.

He nods. "Kick his ass, Rose," he says and Dimitri chuckles.

"Nice to know whose side you're on," he remarks as we head out the door.

"Good luck, you guys!" Lissa calls after us.

Once we're outside, Dimitri turns to me. "You ready to head down?" he asks, the challenge clear in his voice.

"Sure thing," I answer. "I just want to change out of these first."

I gingerly pluck at my blazer which is uncomfortably warm and he nods his assent, walking off towards the recreation room while I go back to ours.

I change and leave the room feeling much fresher. Maybe even a little confident.

There are a few guardians milling around the rec room when I enter, dressed in a light jacket and my favourite pair of jeans. Dimitri's over by one of the pool tables taking a few practice shots, but he looks up when I approach.

"Just to clarify; if I win, you promise to drop this forever?" he asks, leaning casually on the table.

"And If I win, you teach me how to swear in Russian," I answer. "Let's get started."

"Standard eight ball?" he says and I nod.

"I don't know how to play snooker," I admit.

He smiles. "I'll teach you sometime. Would you like to break?"

I snort. "Don't do me any favours, comrade. I'll win, no matter what."

He gives me an exasperated look, but then bends over to take his first shot. Whatever he says, I'm actually feeling pretty good about my chances. After the morning spent practicing with Lissa and Christian, I think I actually stand a chance against him. I mean, really, how good can he actually be?

Dimitri breaks and sinks a ball straight out.

"I guess I'm solids," he says and bends over to take his next shot.

By the time he's sunk another three balls five minutes later, I have my answer. At this rate he'll win without me even getting a turn. He lines up his next shot and draws back his cue stick. It's time for me to intervene.

I take off my jacket and loudly remark, "Boy, it's getting pretty hot in here."

The ball goes wide, knocking one of my own into the corner pocket.

My legs are sheathed in my favourite pair of white jeans, so tight they might as well be a second skin. Most of the time I can wear them and still pass them off as respectable, but not when they're paired with the lowest plunging neckline I own. The top is red and elegant with sweeping fabric at the front and back, low enough that my cleavage is clearly visible as well as a little of the maroon push up bra that I'm wearing underneath. In short, the perfect distraction.

Dimitri doesn't even say anything, but with the hungry way he's looking at me, he doesn't have to. My plan seems to be working a little too well, however. We've attracted the attention of the other guardians in the room, but I try not to let that phase me.

I also ignore it when one of the watching guardians wolf-whistles, but I don't miss the way Dimitri's face darkens.

The cue ball is in a pretty tricky position and I use that as an excuse to stroll up and down the table, bending over provocatively while making sure to lightly brush up against him as I pretend to look for a better angle. Eventually I pull back the cue stick to sink another ball, but my luck runs out on my next shot when I get the angle wrong and the ball bounces harmlessly off the cushion. The spectators groan.

He takes his turn, trying to regain his focus by attempting to ignore me. I watch as he gracefully leans over the table, a few loose strands of his hair falling into his face as he folds his long body effortlessly. His muscles are tense as he strains for control, and maybe it's because of this that the cue ball teeters on the edge of the pocket for a moment before plunging in after the ball he just sank.

"Govno," he mutters, and I recognise the word due to frequent use.

"We can start with that one when I win," I say, fluttering my eyelashes.

"I know what you're doing, Roza," he says skeptically, "And it's not going to work."

"We'll see," I say and I bend over, allowing my shirt to ride up slightly as I do. Behind me, I hear the small intake of breath as Dimitri takes in the view of my thong peeking over the top of my jeans. Then I feel hands on my hips, turning me around to face him and bringing his face within inches of mine.

"Fine," he growls softly into my ear. "You win."

"You'll teach me?" I say, delighted. I hadn't expected it to work so quickly.

"Yes," he says huskily. "Let's go back to our room, away from prying eyes." Is his tone a little jealous?

"Are you sure?" I joke, "I mean shouldn't we pack away first?" I gesture to the pool equipment behind us.

His eyes are ablaze. "Rose, I swear," he mutters. "It's either in our room or right here on the table. Screw the crowd."

I can't respond to that.

* * *

The next morning we lie in bed in each other's embrace.

"Govno," I say with a grin. Like a child with a new toy, I'm thrilled at my newfound knowledge. And of course Dimitri's reluctance in the first place makes it ten times better.

He looks down at me and raises an eyebrow.

"Govno," I repeat, just to show him who's boss.

He rests his head back on the pillow and closes his eyes.

"On the dresser," is all he says.

Confused, I look over to see what he's talking about. A small object sits on our dresser, catching the light.

"It's a… jar?" I ask, still unsure what's happening.

Dimitri nods. "You owe twenty dollars."

"What?" I say, outraged. "Why?"

There's a small smile on his face as he turns to me. "Last night I took the liberty of introducing a swear jar to the apartment. I think you'll find it very useful. You owe twenty dollars."

With a groan, I get out of bed and rummage in the pocket of my discarded jeans for my wallet.

"Dimitri Belikov," I mutter darkly, "I will find a way to get you for this."

Quiet chuckles issue from the bed.

"I don't doubt it, Roza," he says.

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! If you did (or didn't and have some criticism) and wish to tell me so, please review! Your support and suggestions mean so much to me. Whether you favourite or not is up to you, but I strongly recommend it. Then again, I may be slightly biased.**_

 _ **Shout out to my superfantastic Beta reader NB313 and to Craaazzy Geek for the Russian Swears. Go check out their stuff, I promise you won't be disappointed!**_

 _ **I don't own Vampire Academy or the characters therein.**_


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